Let the whipping begin? 
The male, anticipating an attack, kept his sword raised and ready. His eyes flashed as she nodded, and as she finished speaking he exclaimed, "The lady is not only fair and a formidable opponent, she is also highly talented in the difficult art of metal working! The gods themselves would promote you to their ranks." A grin was pulled tightly across his lips and also danced in his eyes. How could he have known, when he stirred from sleep this morning, that he would be going on an epic adventure to the days of knights and princes? This, truly, was more exciting than any dream he would have concocted, because it was two minds sharing one fantasy. Hemming vs. Hemming, on the other hand, quickly became dull.
Lady Asha started to move her feet again, and the male knew that a swift attack would soon be launched. He was right, but from where the attack was coming from he did not recognize quickly enough. The stick was already making a forceful descent when he started to react, ducking to the side. He didn't get out of the way fast enough, though, and the stick hit on the edge of his shoulder before shifting over and continuing its descent down the side of his arm. A fairly loud crack sounded, as the stick had hit an area of relatively unprotected bone. The swooshing sound it had made as it swung suggested that the strike was fast and strong, and would likely hurt under usual conditions. Remarkably, the male felt fine, and was more worried about regaining his stance and getting on the offense. Whether it was the fantasy they were enshrouded him that granted him such protection, or the adrenaline that was pulsing through his veins, he couldn't be sure.
Stumbling to the side as he recovered his balance, he cried out, "'Tis but a flesh wound!" before launching himself at his opponent, his sword swinging haphazardly out to the side before swooping towards her. |